Chapter 205
My jaw drops open and I huff a disbelieving little laugh. “Jackson, I can’t make flames.”
“The flashpoint of wood is far lower than the temperature at which glass melts, Clark,” Jackson replies, raising an eyebrow at me.
I narrow my eyes at my mate, not liking this smug new attitude. Or that he’s right.
“What…what’s happening?” Seraphina whispers, looking at me and then up at Jacks.
“Ariel is going to do magic,” Jackson whispers back, ducking his head low in pretend secrecy. “Want to see?”
“Yah!” Sera exclaims, still in a whisper, looking at me eagerly.
I just sigh, and roll my eyes, and flop my hand out towards my mate, wanting to hold his. But all my bravado just covers up my anxiety. I mean…can I really do that? Jackson, all confidence, slides his hand into mine. And then I concentrate, breathing out slowly, working to fall into a meditative state like mom does when she accesses her gift.
And I think I hit it – though I don’t know how I know – my eyes going half distant and half focused as I stare at the wood. I concentrate on it, breathing in the smoky, crisp, deliciously charred smell of the fire. And then I pull on something deep inside myself, exhaling long and slow. I’m concentrating so hard that I barely notice as a long stream of smoke begins to drift upwards from the log on which I’m concentrating.
Jackson’s hand tightens on mine, excited –
And then all of a sudden – flame.
I gasp as the little red blaze sparks to life, and then I laugh, turning to Jackson, delighted. He laughs too, staring at me in awe, thrilled, as Seraphina throws her arms up with a big whoop. I shriek and throw myself into Jackson’s arms, grabbing Sera into my own, gibbering nonsense in my excitement about how cool that was and how amazed I am and how now I’m going to set everything on fire all the time –
Jackson laughs with me and I can feel down the bond that he’s as excited, thrilled, and fascinated as I am. “Little fire goddess,” he murmurs, raising a hand to cup my cheek. And then he shakes his head like he can’t believe I’m real and leans in for a kiss. I laugh, even as I kiss him back – probably a little too passionately, forgetting completely that my little cousin is there.
But she reminds us, of course.
“Ariii,” she whines, smacking me hard on the arm with her little palms. “Let me go, let’s do it again! What else can you melt!?”
I break away from Jackson, beaming at him before turning back to the smallest Sinclair. “I don’t know, baby,” I say, giggling in my excitement. “Let’s find out! Where’s all that chocolate you brought over?”
“There’s my baby!” Cora calls about an hour later, coming into the living room a little swifter than she normally would. Which is normal, I suppose, when your youngest child disappeared from your room and could be wandering anywhere in the palace.
“Mama!” Sera calls, dashing towards her mom, her hands and her pajamas covered in streaks of melted chocolate.
“Whoa, baby!” Roger calls, coming in after Cora but moving fast to step in front of his wife, crouching and holding out a hand towards his youngest child. “What did we say about touching adults when our hands are sticky and disgusting?”
“We said do it!” she shouts, laughing like a little demon and running right for him, her hands stretched out.
“Defiance!” Roger growls playfully, snatching his baby girl around the waist and flipping her upside down. Jackson flinches a little at how loud Seraphina shrieks, looking at me with a worried glance. But then he settles, accepting it as an apparently normal part of child rearing when he sees me simply laugh and lick some melted chocolate off my finger.
“Clean that thing up,” Cora says to Roger, waving at her daughter as she continues on her path towards Jackson and me, her cream-colored nightgown and robe floating around her rather majestically. Roger gives Cora a salute, tossing Seraphina over his shoulder as he heads out of the room to take her to clean up and get changed.
“Did she come in here and bother you?” Cora asks, hands on her hips, peering down and our scattered morning snacks with curiosity.
“No bother,” I say, grinning up at my aunt. “She’s so cute. Plus, it’s always fun to see Jackson terrified.”
“I’m not terrified,” he protests, appalled, but Cora laughs and just pats him on the head.
“Seraphina’s little puppy,” she coos.
“This puppy thing is not sticking,” Jackson grumbles, brushing Cora’s hand away and making her laugh harder.
“Is it time!?” Mom asks, peeking her head out from her bedroom suite. “Is it Midwinter!? Can I come out!?”
“Yes, come out!” I call, the fire blazing cheerfully behind me.
Mom dashes into the room, coming over and giving us all Midwinter hugs and kisses as my dad, wearing pajamas for the one day a year when he actually lets anyone see him pajamas, comes out behind her. “I held her back as long as I could,” he murmurs, sleepy. “You’re worse than the kids, Ella.”
“We just have lazy children and nieces and nephews,” mom says. “But, I have a feeling that they’ll start coming in now that they hear that we’re up.”
Mom’s words are almost prophetic and the quickly room begins to fill both with people and noise. Everyone’s in a good mood, of course, ready with kisses and hugs and Midwinter greetings. Mom bustles around, putting on soft holiday music, sending Rafe and Jesse down to the kitchens to collect the plates of prepared foods that the chefs have left for us, setting out stacks and stacks of presents.
Dad and Roger – when he comes back with a fresh and clean Seraphina – settle on the couch, glasses of whiskey already in their hands, shouting greetings to grandpa Henry when he rolls in and settles close to his boys, a blanket spread warm and cozy over his knees.
I stay by Jacks, the only place I really want to be, curled up in our blankets by the fire. Jackson wraps an arm around me and sits quietly, observing it all with fascination as the holiday gets started in full swing. Everyone eats – toast and jam, pastries, donuts, coffee – while mom starts to pass out gifts, setting a slow, leisurely place.
I keep half an eye on Jacks as I start on my second donut, a cup of coffee carefully tucked into the blankets next to me. He watches curiously as the presents go around and I grin at the way his eyes go wider and wider when he sees the seemingly never-ending stack of gifts that mom produces from her room. But his mouth pops open with an audible click when she comes over to us with two in her hands – one for me and, to his shock, one for him.
“What?” he whispers, looking up at her, kind of appalled.
“Happy Midwinter, Jackson,” mom says, quite softly, pressing the gift into his hand and then dipping down to kiss him on the forehead before walking gracefully away.
Jackson just stares down at the gift, awed. I have to bite my lip, a little undone by the shock and emotion on his face. He looks up at me, just blinking.
“This is for me?” he whispers.
“Mmhmm,” I reply, holding back all the things I want to say and just…letting him have this moment.
Jackson slowly turns back to the gift, holding it reverently in his hands.
I let him take him take his time with his and open my present, cooing with delight when I see the set of three little silver bracelets that my mom picked out for me – each engraved with the initials of one of my siblings. I love it, instantly, and call my joy and appreciation over to her. Mom just winks and blows me a kiss.
But I frown when I look over at Jackson and see that his present is still just sitting in his hands, fully intact.
“Unwrap it,” I urge, nudging him with my elbow and smiling.
“I don’t want to,” he murmurs. “It’s…so good, just like this.”
“Well, it’s one of like, forty Jacks,” I say with a little laugh. “And she’s going to get mad if you don’t open any of them.”
He whips his head towards me, his eyes wide again. “Forty!?”
“Forty-one,” I say, closing one eye and holding up a finger. “If you count mine.”
“Forty-two,” Rafe says, coming over and tossing something into Jackson’s lap that makes him jump. “Happy midwinter, puppy.”
Jackson groans, even as he laughs, putting his head in his hands. “I didn’t know about this!” he protests. “I didn’t get anyone anything!”
I laugh, reaching out a hand to rub his back. “No one expected you to, Jackson! It’s more fun this way. You’re like…a little baby. First Midwinter. It’s fun for us.”
He raises his head, meeting my eyes with surprise, and then looks around the room where everyone is, indeed, watching him with a bit of glee. He groans again and buries his head again in his hands, I think completely overwhelmed.
I laugh and throw my arms around his shoulders, hugging him tight. “It’s Midwinter, Jacks! It’s family. We love you, let us show it.”
But he just keeps his head tucked down for a second, his shoulders shaking a bit, and I let him have his time.
